Girls, Girls, Girls
by MoonstoneIce
Summary: Charlie Weasley is surrounded by all these lovesick girls, but his mind is on other things... like dragons and a certain seventh year Ravenclaw.


**A/N:** Beater 2 of the Chudley Cannons here for the QLFC Round 5. This world is not mine. It's J.K.'s. I own nothing.

 **Prompts:** 3\. plethora, and 9. "I don't do well with snakes."

* * *

"Gryffindor wins! Gryffindor wins!" Max Jonson's yells echoed throughout the pitch. Charlie swooped down to the ground, the snitch firmly tucked into his fist. It was the first game of the school year, Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff, and not many students had put their money on Gryffindor winning. It was the first year without Bill Weasley on the team, and their keeper, third year Oliver Wood, didn't have a great season the year before. Charlie could still see the poor kid tumbling off his broom and heading head first toward the ground. The rest of last season had gone downhill from there.

But there they were now, the Gryffindor Quidditch team, standing in the middle of the pitch, cheering and hugging each other. Many crowd members were throwing things: transfigured flowers, gold and red streamers. One girl in the stands was shouting for Charlie to look up. When he did, she blew him a kiss. He nodded politely, but inside his head, Charlie was rolling his eyes. He didn't quite understand women.

"What a game!" Charlie's thoughts were interrupted by the deep voice of their commentator. "Gryffindor wins with another great save from Charlie Weasley. I'm Max Jonson; have a great day Hogwarts." Cheers erupted from all around the pitch. Students began filing in all around the team.

Charlie smiled up toward Max in the booth. Max waved, and Charlie felt his heart rate pick up ever so slightly. He was brought back to reality when Regis Cromley, team captain and seventh year beater, slapped him on the back.

"Great save, Weasley. Oi! Team," Cromley shouted, "celebrations to commence in the Gryffindor common room. Bring friends!"

Cromley was a good captain, Charlie thought. Though, sometimes Charlie wished that Crom wasn't so strict about practices. For a seventh year, the lad thought way too hard about Quidditch and not nearly enough about school work.

Charlie wanted to wait while the others cleared the area. He preferred walking alone after matches, enjoying the peacefulness and solitude of the field. However, Gryffindor hadn't won in a while, and he was not expecting the plethora of fifth, sixth, and seventh year girls fawning over him all the way to the locker room. His stroll could wait until after the celebration perhaps.

Quickly, Charlie escaped the throng of women who were grabbing at his uniform, his Weasley-red hair, and the snitch still protected by his closed fingers. In the locker room, Wood laughed. "I see you've got the fan club this year, eh Charlie?"

Charlie nodded, but he really didn't want to talk about it. At the start of his sixth year, Charlie had chosen to continue on with Care of Magical Creatures. Within three days of making this decision, three girls—two Ravenclaws and Jody Bennett of his own house and year—had asked him to the first Hogsmeade trip at the end of November, crooning on and on about how sensitive it was of him to pick such a class.

Sensitive. Merlin, he hated that word. Max had a good laugh about it though, and Charlie could still hear him saying that of course these girls wanted him on their arms; he was a "catch."

"Wood's right," Anita Thoms smiled. She was the other seventh year beater on the team. While fanning out her long blonde hair, which she always kept pinned up in a braid during matches, she continued: "I hear all the girls talking about how handsome you are, Charlie. It's sweet, but it's also kinda gross."

"Gee, thanks," Charlie rolled his eyes.

"I don't mean it in a bad way!" Anita smiled. "I mean it like you're my teammate, and I've seen you throw up, spit blood, and sweat like a ruddy dog. We're too close; you're my bud."

She wrapped an arm around his shoulders, making Charlie laugh. "I know. I get it. Most of the sixth year boys go gaga over you, Thoms. Frankly, I just don't get it."

"Ah," she turned to face him. "We could fix that."

Lightly, she kissed him on the cheek. He rolled his eyes again as he watched her bounce her way out of the locker room. She was pretty; he'd give her that. And apparently her arse jiggled in just the right way for other guys, but Charlie still couldn't see it. Anita was just—what word had she used? Anita was his bud.

"Watch that one, will you?" Crom piped in. "She could tear your heart right in two; she's beauty and brains and a whole lot of pain."

"I'm not worried," Charlie slugged his gear on to his shoulder. "I wouldn't want to date anyone on the team anyways. Too overwhelming in my opinion."

The rest of the team quickly followed him and Crom up to the Gryffindor common room where they were greeted with smiling faces and butterbeer all around. Little Fred and George ran up to Charlie to hug him, and then they proceeded to tell him about how much money they had earned from betting on the game.

"As a prefect, I'm not hearing this," he warned his brothers. The two of them held identical smirks, and Charlie could only laugh. Their poor mother. How did she ever manage six boys and Ginny with these two in the mix? "As your brother, I am completely in awe of you, and I expect my fair cut of the deal."

"No can do," George said.

"Bad for business if we just give it away and all," Fred finished.

Charlie sighed, watching the two of them race off to the other first years. He knew the twins would be sneaking them all butterbeers when no one was looking, and it made him sigh in exasperation. He had worked very hard to keep them out of trouble so far, but only the two of them ever knew what scheme was next.

Charlie turned, determined to find a place secluded enough that he looked interested in the party but not so much so that he wanted company. Unfortunately, Tonks was standing in front of him when he spun around. Her hair was a bright orange, like the inside of a nectarine, and she was sporting badger-shaped teeth, no doubt in support of her house. She giggled when Charlie noticed them and proceeded to shrink them back to normal. Metamorphmagi were definitely an interesting piece of magic. "Wotcher, Charlie! Great game today."

"Thanks," he smiled. "But shouldn't you be mourning the loss of your house?"

"Eh. It's all good fun, isn't it? Besides, we all know that Slytherin is a shoe-in to win."

"I wouldn't bet my money on them, though," he said. He actually agreed with her, but he was trying to make polite conversation. He had a feeling he knew where this conversation was headed, and instead of actually reaching that point, Charlie wanted to stay on any other topic.

Tonks however was not on the same page. She went for the jugular: "Hogsmeade weekend is coming up. Got a date lined up?"

Charlie shook his head and glanced around the room. Who could save him from the inevitable? Scanning the crowd, Charlie found Anita's face, giddily laughing at something Crom must have said. Charlie turned back to Tonks. "Not yet, but I'm thinking of asking Anita. From the team. She's really a peach."

Tonks visibly shrank down about half an inch. "Oh," she said, the warmth in her voice falling flat. "Okay then. Good game!"

She turned, her hair fading ever to slightly as well. Charlie didn't want to hurt her; he just knew that she wasn't going to get anything out of the trip with him. It wasn't worth the awkwardness and the idle conversation. Charlie sank into one of the big arm chairs by the windows, burying his face in his hands.

"Frustrated?" A butterbeer was extended out to him. Charlie looked at the person attached to the offered beverage.

"Just a bit." He took the drink from Max and smiled. Max Jonson was a seventh year Ravenclaw. Tall, brunette, brown eyes. He was particularly good with charms and excelled in transfiguration. For fun, Max decided to take Care of Magical Creatures as an extracurricular lesson and wound up in Charlie's class. Max was terrible with most of the creatures Hagrid introduced, but Charlie had been helping him the past three months of term.

"You just won the game for your team. What on earth is there to be frustrated about?"

"Girls," Charlie sighed. "They all want to date me, and all I want is to walk around the pitch alone and then sleep."

"Your life must be so hard. Athleticism, good looks, a career path planned," Max took a sip of his own butterbeer, nodding in the direction of the twins. "A loving family. How do you manage?"

"Cut it," Charlie said. "And I don't have a career path planned. I just have an idea."

"Dragons and Romania. That's more than me, mate."

"It's only a dream."

"One worth trying to make real," Max sat on the arm of the chair, looking right into Charlie's eyes. "Honest. You've got a talent for it, and you've still got another year to get things rolling. Hagrid would help you in a heartbeat if you asked him, you know. I say do it."

"Yeah?"

"Would I ever lie to you?" Max raised his eyebrows, teasing Charlie. It made Charlie laugh, sending a shiver down his spine. Max was the only person who knew about Charlie's plan. It had crept up on him one night in the library last spring when he was studying for his O.W.L.s. He was reading up on international magical creatures, and he had stumbled upon a book about how Romania cared for dragons. Charlie spent nearly three hours reading the 796 page novel cover to cover. It had surely cost him his potions O.W.L., but Charlie didn't care much for that subject.

"I looked up that book you read," Max smiled. "It sounds fascinating, though I don't do well with snakes."

"Snakes?" Charlie implored.

"The book said that there are a ton of snakes in Romania. Most stay away, but the sand viper is a big nuisance to maintaining the dragons."

"Yes," Charlie nodded, "but a sand snake bite wouldn't kill you—or a dragon for that matter. The worst is when their bites are infected. That's when you've got a problem."

"You amaze me with all the things you know," Max said quietly after a few moments of silence between them. Charlie noticed that the older boy couldn't look at him anymore, which made Charlie blush ever so slightly. He was lucky that he didn't turn rosy red like Bill and Ron did. He knew that there was only a little bit more color in his pale and freckled cheeks. Anyone walking by would think he was still hot from the match.

No one needed to know that his best friend was making him blush. In only three short months, Max had definitely become a vital part of Charlie's life. But he didn't want to think about it too much. The idea made him feel like he was falling in slow motion.

Charlie shook his head, leaning back in his seat. His eyes wandered around the room again. Anita was still with Crom. Tonks had found herself among some other sixth year Hufflepuff girls. Jody Bennett waved to him, as did her friend Terese Bell. All around him were these girls his age, and none of them tickled his fancy.

When Bill was at Hogwarts, there was a new girl on his arm every week. He just knew how to pick up women and make them feel right at home with him. Charlie never even felt the need for that kind of affection.

Except… he felt like he could reach out and take Max by the hand. That didn't seem weird at all. Were it Anita or Jody or anyone else, Charlie wouldn't even consider it. But Max…

Charlie felt his face scrunch up in thought. Placing the butterbeer down on the small table next to him, he folded his hands in his lap.

Now, of course any sixteen year old boy would want to date. He would want to find a nice girl to take to Hogsmeade with him. He would bring her to the Three Broomsticks and buy her lunch. They would walk around. Talk. Laugh. Maybe browse the Quidditch shop for a bit.

But Charlie didn't want any of that. He couldn't picture anyone in that position with him. Well, besides Max. Why did it have to be a girl anyway?

"I've been thinking," Max spoke. Charlie hadn't realized just how much tension had grown between the two of them while he was wrapped up in his own thoughts. "Romania does sound pretty nice."

"It's definitely warmer."

"I might go there myself," Max still hadn't looked Charlie in the eye. Granted, he was seated on the arm of the chair, and Charlie assumed turning to the side would be a strain on anybody's neck, but the conversation had changed. Something once light joking and familial teasing turned into something much more serious. The party was still in full swing around them, but Charlie felt like they were the only two people there.

"Why's that?" Charlie heard himself say. "Why Romania?"

"Well, for starters, I think I want to practice wizard law." Max cleared his throat. He continued on very matter-of-factly. "International affairs would be ideal. Not so much for travel, but because unity and all the like that Dumbledore is always going on about in his start-of-term speeches."

"Good reasoning," Charlie picked up his butterbeer and gulped down most of it.

"Secondly," Max finally turned toward Charlie, eyes locked on his. "I think it would be nice if you and I—well, I'd like it if you and I ended up in the same area one day."

Max's eyes dropped downward, and Charlie felt his heart skip a beat. "You know," he began, but his mouth had gone dry. Suddenly, Charlie was aware of every single sweaty pore on his hands as he clutched the butterbeer bottle. "I think that I'll go to Hagrid tomorrow to talk about it. Romania, I mean."

Max looked back up at him. Charlie could see in this his eyes a slight spark. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Charlie smiled, his blush returning again. He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. "You did a great job commentating today."

"Thanks," Max smiled, visibly relaxing into normal conversation again. "I did have an excellent view of the game too. And I couldn't have done any of it without you lot making it such an intense game."

"Yeah, well, it's what we're here for." They both laughed. Charlie took a moment before switching the topic yet again. He wanted to say something before he felt like he couldn't anymore. "Max, I was wondering if, well, there's the Hogsmeade weekend coming up. Wanna go?"

"With you?" Max asked.

A pinch of doubt covered Charlie. For years now, he had been worrying and wondering what was wrong with him. Why didn't he want to date any of the girls at school? Were they not his type? Was something wrong with him? What was his type anyways? He always felt better suited alone, and when he was helping Hagrid with the creatures, Charlie felt like he was actually doing something, and he loved it.

But then Max came along, and things started changing. It didn't help that all the girls who had once fawned over his brother Bill were now flocking to the next Weasley in line. But Max. He would talk, and all Charlie wanted to do was open up to him about everything. It felt right; Charlie knew there was nothing wrong with him. Max made sense, and no, it didn't have to be a girl that he dated.

Patiently, Charlie waited for an answer from Max. "I mean, if—if that's what you want. Because I—I don't want you to think that—I just thought maybe—the whole Romania thing, it's just about—"

"Yes. I want you to come with me," Charlie said, feeling more confident than he thought he could ever feel.

"Okay!" Max said, a big grin stretching across his features. "I've actually been trying to pluck up the courage to ask myself, really."

It was Max's turn to blush. Charlie thought that it suited his features. Placing his hand on Max's for only a brief moment, Charlie realized that they were both treading new waters, and things should be approached delicately for the time being. Besides, they were both heading toward Romania; they had time.

Lounging back in his chair, Charlie gazed around the room again. Girls, girls, girls everywhere. But only one Max.


End file.
